Heaven's Flames
by Ginnonifu
Summary: Marik's an angel from Heaven, but does that mean he's angelic? What happens when the rebellious angel meets the mysterious, rebellious demon Bakura? Thiefshipping


He looked nervously around him, making sure nobody was watching. Sighing, he entered the convenient store. He'd just be quick, in and out. He only needed one thing, anyways. However, almost as soon as he walked through the doors he stopped in his tracks upon hearing a voice _directly behind him_. "Oh, my. What's an angel like you doing in a place like this?" Throwing his hood over his halo, a dead giveaway of his identity, said angel turned around in shock to confirm his fears. It was a demon. A demon was right there and had _recognized_ that he was an angel.

Fighting down his panic, the angel looked the demon in the eyes. "It's none of your business. I'm just here to get something." Quirking an eyebrow, the demon smiled and asked, "Why would you come down here just to buy something?" Frowning, the angel turned around and walked forward. "I do what I want," he muttered under his breath. Surprisingly, the demon heard this. "Oh? Don't you mean 'I do what God wants'?" The angel paused for a second before looking over his shoulder and retorting, "Just because I was born an angel means I have to do as that _man_ says?" 'And who said I was _buying_ anything?' he thought to himself with a miniscule smirk.

The angel started forward again, turning left into an aisle of cheap, common appliances. He browsed the shelves for awhile, tracing their contents with a curious finger before standing up straight and heading slowly to the door. He looked as if he hadn't found what he was looking for. Sighing as he reached the streets, the angel placed his hands in his pockets, an obvious fist creating a cloth covered lump above his right hip. He started on his long path home. He enjoyed the heat of Hell, doubled by the cotton hoodie he wore to hide his wings and halo. "Why does it have to be so God damned cold in Heaven?" he asked himself in a barely audible mumble. He knew the answer, of course, but felt it necessary to express his discomfort.

"So, it _is_ cold up there." He stopped, turning around slowly. There, about two meters away from him, was the demon from before. Wrinkling his nose indignantly, the angel replied, "If you must know, yes. It is. Now, if you don't mind, I'm getting the hell out of here." The demon's sarcastic smirk melted into one of amusement as he chuckled. "You _must_ be doing that on purpose." The angel's face twisted in genuine confusion. "Doing _what_ on purpose?"

"Oh, never mind." He walked up next to the angel, noticing him stiffen slightly. "Relax, I'm not going to harm you. No, I'm just curious. My name's Bakura, by the way. And you are...?" The angel turned his head slightly to look at Bakura briefly before looking ahead again and responding, "...Marik." "Marik," Bakura tested the name. "Alright, Marik. Tell me why you, an angel, decided to make a risky travel down to Hell just to steal something from a convenient store?" Marik's head shot up and faced Bakura. The demon just smiled at him and said, "That fist of yours, what is it wrapped around that wasn't there before?"

Marik blushed slightly at how he was so easily discovered. He looked forward again, unsure of whether or not to tell the stranger. "Why do _you_ want to know?" He narrowed his eyes at the demon, who then raised his hands in mock surrender. "I'm simply curious! Not only have I never seen an angel brave or stupid enough to enter Hell uninvited, but I've also never seen one steal, curse OR disrespect God. So, it begs the question..." Bakura paused dramatically, walked in front of Marik and stopped, facing him with a devilish smile.

"Who the _hell_ are you and what could you possibly want from here?" Marik, who had stopped walking because of a certain obstacle, walked around him and said, "I'm an angel who curses, hates God, sneaks out of Heaven, wears a hoodie in Hell and _enjoys it_, and stole a lighter from a convenient store." He held his prize in an open palm for the demon to see. He wrapped his fingers around it and placed his fist back into his pocket. "I couldn't exactly find a lighter in Heaven." Bakura nodded, blatantly staring at Marik with what appeared to be approval. This somewhat unsettled the angel. "What?"

Bakura sniggered at his irritation. "It's just heartwarming to see one meant to be so good doing such bad things." Marik glared at him with a small pout before saying, "It's not _that_ bad." He looked forward and continued walking in silence before turning his eyes to peek to his side out the corner of his eye. The demon was still there, simply walking next to him without saying a word. "Why are you still here?" "Perhaps this is the direction of my home?" Marik scoffed. "Am I supposed to believe that?" Bakura put a finger to his chin and hummed, making a high pitched 'hmmm' noise, before grinning at him. "Nope." The angel rolled his eyes but didn't protest. The demon wasn't bothering him per se, so what was the harm? Granted he could accidentally reveal the location of the rift he used to sneak in and out of Hell, but he would lose him before he got there. He was sure of it.

"What's so important about a lighter anyways, Mr. Bad Angel, that you literally went through Hell to get it?" Marik twirled the question through his mind as he searched for the right answer. Why? Well, wasn't it obvious? Or perhaps it wasn't, as right now he couldn't even think of a reason as to why he'd done it. "I guess," he started, deciding to let the words find themselves, "I did it because Heaven has so many rules and restrictions that it's just suffocating. Once you start to disobey and get away with it, you realize the rules mean nothing to you and you want to continue doing what's not expected of you." His acquaintance surprised him with his response. "I get that."

Marik scoffed once more. "You? Understand? There _are_ no rules in Hell. It's survival of the fittest, pure anarchy. Sure, there's things like currency and a crude judicial system, but other than that you do whatever the hell you want." Bakura shook his head and turned the street corner with Marik. "That's true for the most part, but there are still taboos that are likely to get you punished, whether by the 'crude judicial system' or not. If you don't get dragged to court you get killed in your sleep. Don't be different, don't be nice, don't be weak. Above all else, do _not_, under _any circumstance_, pray. That is the worst thing you could possibly do down here. Pray, and you die with a one way ticket to Purgatory."

The angel scrunched his eyebrows, trying to wrap his mind around this. "Why are you telling me this?" "Because," Bakura looked him in the eyes, stopping them both in their tracks. His smirk was gone, replaced by a look of utter seriousness. "I pray every day." Marik gawked, frozen in space. His eyes were as wide open as his mouth, and it took a certain demon, now laughing at such an extreme reaction, waving his hand in front of his face to snap him back to the present. "You _pray_?!" His laughing face quickly turned to one of urgency and anger. "_Are you insane_?!" He whispered in a stressed tone. "_Keep your damn voice down_!" The trespasser nodded and, after quickly looking around to make sure nobody heard, they continued walking.

Only then did something occur to the outsider. "Bakura, where is everybody? Why are the streets empty?" Now the demon's smirk returned at full force. 'He does that often,' Marik observed. "The streets are empty because I'm here." The feathered blond quirked an eyebrow at him, urging him on. "I'm sort of an important person around here, you see. Real high up on the food chain. Nobody fucks with me and I don't fucks with nobody, so wherever I go, I go alone. Nobody wants to risk pissing me off." "Oh… Sounds lonely." Bakura's smirk melted and he blinked at the angel, not expecting a response like that. He grunted, face turning to stone. "Psh, of course it's lonely. That's the price you pay for survival down here. Either that or being a fool surrounded by other fools and using only your muscle to get by."

Marik suddenly felt awkward and laughed halfheartedly. "Geez, I didn't piss you off, did I? Apparently that's a big no-no." Bakura chuckled a bit. "No, you're fine. But you're right; you don't want to see me pissed. Anyways, I have to go my own way now. If you're ever in Hell again, we should talk more." "How would you know if I was back?" The smirk retook it's thrown. "Don't worry about that. I'll show up." Marik quickly checked around for landmarks to make sure they were going the right way, curious about what the demon meant by that. He was about to ask, but when he turned his head back, Bakura was gone.

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**Tada! A second multi-chapter fic! Two at once shouldn't be too hard to keep up with… right? ono right...**

**I got the idea for this fic from a piece of fanart. I'll link it as soon as I can find it again so I can credit the artist for the idea.**

**Anyways, please review! And if you came from my other fic Phases, I love you so much. Thanks for reading! c: **


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